


midnight confessions

by gothyringwald



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: It’s a Saturday night when Billy realises he’s been wrong about this thing between him and Steve Harrington.





	midnight confessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [socknonny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/gifts).



> This one’s for socknonny - thank you for being a friend! <333
> 
> And thanks to granpappy-winchester/lazybaker for reading this over for me! :)

It's a Saturday night when Billy realises he's been wrong about this thing between him and Steve Harrington.

Priest is blasting through his headphones, nicotine buzzing in his veins, and a warm breeze caresses his skin. His bed is soft beneath him and— He distinctly remembers shutting his window so there shouldn't be a breeze.

He opens his eyes and pushes himself up, so he's sitting with his back against the wall. His heart leaps into his throat. Steve is leaning through his open window, waving his hand like he was trying to get Billy's attention, even though Billy had his fucking eyes closed.

'What the fuck, Harrington?' Billy rips his headphones off, crushes his cigarette in the ashtray that sits on the crate by his bed.

'Hey,' Steve says, all casual like he didn't just take ten years off of Billy's life. His arms are folded over the sill, now, and the soft glow of Billy's lamp washes him in a sickly yellow. There are dark circles under his eyes and his usually perfect hair is a mess.

'What are you doing here?'

Steve bites his lip, drums his fingers on the sill. 'You said your dad and Susan would be out of town…I thought it'd be OK if I came over.'

Billy glares up at him.

'Can I come in?'

'Whatever,' Billy says. He shuffles back so Steve can clamber in, then has to reach out and steady him so Steve doesn't end up on the floor. 

'So…' Steve says when he's righted himself, slumped against the wall by the window, not quite kitty corner from Billy. He runs a hand through his hair and straightens his shirt.

The tape is still playing in the stereo, music silent because the headphones are plugged in, but the sprockets are whirring away. Billy leans over and hits the stop button, it's clunk too loud in the silence of his room. It jangles on Billy's nerves and he digs his nails into his palms.

'Why are you here, Harrington?' It's a dumb question and Billy knows it—there's only one reason Steve would be climbing through Billy's window in the middle of the night and it's not to play checkers. They usually plan their meetings, though, so they won't get caught but Billy isn't going to complain about the surprise visit. It beats a night alone, smoking and listening to heavy metal to ward off the silence, even though Billy sometimes wishes this thing between them could be _more_.

'I—' Steve dips his gaze to his lap, a furrow in his brow. He gives a little shrug and glances at Billy. 'I was bored.'

Well, isn't that peachy. Billy quirks a brow. 'So, you decided to play prowler?'

When Steve stays silent, Billy reaches for his pack of cigarettes—he needs to do something with his hands—and offers one to Steve. Steve shakes his head, so Billy lights one for himself and leans back against the wall. The warm breeze still blows through Billy's window, dispelling the smoke he exhales, freshening the stale air in his room.

Steve hugs his arms around his middle and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

It's distracting. Billy takes a long drag, pretends it's the smoke filling his lungs suffusing him with warmth, and not the press of Steve's shin against his foot, or the way his room doesn't feel so empty now.

'Do Neil and Susan fight much?'

Billy blinks. 'Uh, not really.' He ashes his cigarette, shrugs. 'Think she's kinda scared of him.'

There's that look in Steve's eyes, now, he always gets when something about Billy's dad comes up. Pity. Billy hates it. Steve sucks in a breath. 'Does he…hit her, too?'

'No.' Billy looks away. 'Guess seeing him slap me around is enough for her.'

'Oh.' The bed dips as Steve shifts a little closer. One of his hands is resting on Billy's ankle. Burning. 'What about your mom and dad? Before they divorced?'

'What is this, twenty questions? Jesus.' Billy stabs his cigarette into the ashtray, his other hand curling into a fist. What the fuck is Steve doing, asking about— Steve is looking at him a little desperately and Billy doesn't get it but the anger bubbling up in him fizzles out. He sighs. 'Yeah, they fought. A lot. Crying, screaming, throwing shit. The works. Happy now?'

'No, I just— It's only that my parents have been fighting a lot.'

Something that feels suspiciously like guilt wells up in Billy's gut. He should've figured Steve wasn't bringing this up to be an asshole but—

'They, uh'—Steve runs a hand over his face, tips his head back—'they haven't been great for a while but it's so bad lately. They had a huge fight tonight and I didn't want to be at home. So…'

So he came to Billy. Billy doesn't know what to do with that.

They fool around—and it's good, it's really fucking good—but they don't do…this. They don't talk about the bad shit in their lives, except in offhand remarks; they don't talk about the good shit, either. They don't come to each other for…what? For comfort? They don't even hang out unless it's to fuck.

But Steve didn't want to be at home, because his parents were fighting, and he came to Billy. Billy doesn't know what to _do_ with that so he leans across the bed and kisses Steve. 

Steve kisses back, one hand gently cupping Billy's jaw, the other on his knee. It's softer than their kisses usually are, not chaste but…calmer somehow. More like how they kiss _after_ fucking than before.

It feels good like this, kissing with no intent behind it, and Billy doesn't understand how. It's not meant to be like this. He frowns and pushes himself up, swings one leg over Steve's lap so he's straddling him, the solid warmth of Steve familiar between his thighs. 

'Hey.' Steve runs a hand through Billy's hair, the soft look in his eyes making Billy's stomach turn over.

In the back of his mind, Billy knows this is what he's wanted—to kiss Steve just to kiss him—but it's too much. So he fists a hand in Steve's hair, tilts his head back, kisses and bites at Steve's long neck. He rolls his hips down, slides his other hand under Steve's shirt.

Steve's hips twitch under Billy but he pushes at Billy's shoulders and says, 'Mm, don't.'

'Do you wanna fuck or not?' Billy sits back on his heels, hands curled over his thighs. His heart thuds hard.

Steve blinks up at him. 'Uh…not right now?'

Billy moves off of Steve, sitting heavily. If Steve didn't come here to fuck then— 'Then why did you come here?'

Hurt flashes in Steve's eyes but he blinks and looks away. 'I just…wanted to see you. But I guess that was stupid.' He looks at Billy expectantly but Billy stays silent. There's a ringing in Billy's ears and his usually quick tongue is still. Steve presses his lips together and nods. 'Sorry for wasting your time,' he says and makes to climb back out the window.

There's a moment where Billy considers letting Steve go but it's so brief it barely registers. He hooks his hand into Steve's jeans and pulls him back down.

Steve lands with a huff, sprawled on his back, but before he can sit up Billy presses a hand to his chest. Right above Steve's heart. Billy doesn't push hard but he lets his hand rest there in a gesture that he hopes says _stay_.

Steve curls a hand around Billy's wrist, thumb tracing the tendons there, but he doesn't push Billy away. 'What are you doing?' he asks but he doesn't seem concerned. Confused, yes, but not concerned.

Something warm but snarled spreads through Billy. After everything, Steve trusts him.

Steve _trusts_ him.

Panic edges into Billy's veins and he jerks away, folds his arms over his chest. 'What do you _want_ from me?'

'What do I—' Steve sits, runs a hand through his hair. He considers Billy, shoulders sagging. 'I don't want anything from you, Billy.'

'Then why are you here?' Billy can taste the desperation in his voice and he hates it. Hates that Steve can do this to him, hates how much he wants it all the same.

'I just wanted to be with you. Be near you. It— It makes me feel better.' Steve shakes his head and sighs. 'God, I'm an idiot.'

'I make you feel better?' Nausea rolls over Billy except…except it's not nausea. It feels too good. Feels more like…hope?

Steve folds his legs up, hugs his knees to his chest. 'Yes. Well, usually.'

'You mean, like, when we fuck?' Billy asks slowly, cautiously.

'Yeah, then, but just when we hang out too.'

'But we don't hang out without fucking.' Billy swallows thickly. The bed is spinning. 'You only ever want to hang out so we can fool around.'

Steve's brow furrows. 'That's not true.'

'Name one time'—Billy holds a single finger up—'we hung out and didn't fuck.'

'I…'

'See?' Billy sounds triumphant but he doesn't feel it. Confirming that what they have is fooling around, and nothing more, is a bitter victory.

'OK, sure,' Steve says, licking his lips, 'but you're the one who always starts it.'

'What, I don't—' Billy pauses. This time it _is_ a wave of nausea that washes over him. Because Steve is right. The times that Steve has asked him to go to his house to watch a movie, or go swimming, or whatever else, the times it wasn't a secret tryst in the woods or at the quarry, it's almost always Billy who makes the first move. Always Billy who takes things further before Steve can get there first, confirm that all he wants from Billy is sex. 'You never stop me.'

Steve rolls his eyes. 'Are you crazy? You're hot and I like it. I like you…'

Billy is about to ask _Then what about tonight, why didn't you want to—_ when Steve's words catch up with him. 'You _like_ me?'

A blush slowly creeps over Steve's cheeks—fuck, he looks pretty—but he stares up at Billy defiantly. 'Yes.'

All this time Billy thought Steve only wanted to fool around. That it was only Billy who… He didn't think Steve might like him. That Steve might feel it too.

Fuck.

'Should I— Maybe I should go?'

'No,' Billy says, 'stay.'

'OK,' Steve says. He doesn't move, and neither does Billy. They consider each other, this new information sitting heavily between them. Steve shifts a little. 'Now what?'

Billy isn't sure if Steve means now what for them in general, or now what for tonight, so he says, 'Up to you.'

Steve presses his lips together. 'Can we just…sit here?'

'Yeah.' Billy nods and crawls over to sit beside Steve. They're pressed together from shoulder to hip and Billy feels like this should be easier, or maybe harder, or fuck he doesn't know.

'Is this— Is what we do, what we have, just sex for you?' Steve toys with the hem of his shirt. 'Or do you like me too?'

Billy's stomach swoops. 'You are such a girl, Harrington.'

'Says the guy with more hair products than my mom.'

Billy snorts.

'Billy. Do you like me?'

Billy looks at Steve and Steve looks at him, and Billy's heart beats so hard he almost feels sick with it. He knocks his shoulder against Steve's and says, 'You're all right.' It's all he can manage.

It must be enough because Steve smiles, shy and so fucking sweet, and says, 'OK, cool. Because, um, before tonight I'd wondered if maybe you were…never mind.'

'You wondered if I was never mind?'

Steve sucks in a deep breath and says, all in a rush, 'Kinda my boyfriend or something.' His face is all red and he's not quite looking at Billy now and Billy gets it because this is new territory for both of them and Steve's had his heart stomped on before and— 'Just figured I'd put that out there while I'm laying all my stupidity on the table.'

'It's not stupid,' Billy says, too quick and earnest. Heat floods his face.

Steve's face lights up. 'No?'

'Nah,' Billy says, swallowing thickly. 'It's cool, or whatever.'

'It's cool or whatever,' Steve repeats, mocking, but he's smiling. 

'Do you wanna be my boyfriend or not, Harrington?' Billy's palms are sweating and there's a prickly warm feeling all over him.

Steve is grinning, now, as he says, 'Yeah I do.'

'OK, fine, we're boyfriends,' Billy says, feeling like an idiot. Fucking Steve Harrington. 'Quit grinning at me.'

'Make me,' Steve says, so Billy does.

It's not quite like their earlier kiss, but it's not like their prelude-to-a-fuck kisses either. It's new and it's _good_ and it's full of everything Billy can't bring himself to say out loud. 

'You're still grinning,' Billy says, breathless, when he pulls away.

'I'm happy.' Steve pushes Billy's hair out of his face and Billy doesn't stop himself from leaning into the touch. 'I told you you make me feel better.'

'Whatever.'

'You're cute when you're flustered.'

'Fuck off,' Billy says, clearing his throat, 'I don't get flustered.' The look Steve gives him says he doesn't believe Billy but Billy can't find it in himself to care, right now. He shifts so they're sitting shoulder to shoulder again and says, 'You wanna watch TV or something?'

'Not really.'

'OK.'

They fall into silence, legs tangled together, Steve's hand resting on Billy's thigh and his head on Billy's shoulder. It's not an uncomfortable silence, not in the sense of it being loaded with things left unsaid, anymore, but silence always gets under Billy's skin. Sets him on edge. It's muted with Steve here, it always is, but it's still there. And even though he's, Christ, he's happy that Steve is his boyfriend, now, he's worried that the silence will be too much and he'll do or say something to fuck it all up.

'I need music,' he says before it can get to him.

Steve laughs. 'OK.'

Billy leans over the edge of the bed, Steve's hand still hot on his thigh, digging around until he finds his old walkman, a Zeppelin cassette, and an extra set of headphones for Steve. He plugs both sets of headphones in and hands one to Steve, then he settles back, slides his headphones on, and presses play. 

Jangling guitar rings through the tinny speakers, settling the crawling under Billy's skin, easing the remaining tension in his gut. He doesn't turn the music up as loud as he usually would—he doesn't need to, with Steve here, and he wants to be able to hear Steve, anyway, if Steve wants to talk.

'I'm, uh, I'm sorry about your parents, by the way,' Billy says, twining the headphone wire between his fingers. 'It sucks.'

Steve's smile falters a little. 'It does. But thanks.'

'Any time,' Billy says. He slides his arm around Steve's shoulder, relishes the weight of Steve against his side. 'You good?'

'Yeah,' Steve says, squeezing Billy's knee, 'I am, now.'

'Good,' Billy says, letting out a long breath. 

He can't say that he expected to spend his Saturday night cuddling with Steve Harrington, but he's pretty damn glad he was wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> The title is from the song of the same name
> 
> Here's a thing I may or may not have known before I wrote this (you know when you knew a thing, but forgot it, then learn it all over again? That may have happened here): Walkmans used to accomodate two sets of headphones! (I don’t remember if the one I had did or not now...) Pretty nifty. And makes it easier for these dumb boys to listen to Zeppelin together :)
> 
> I also learnt that there [were patents for in-ear headphones dating back to the at least the 1910s](https://lonelybrand.com/blog/earbuds-history-invention/) (I knew they were around long before the 80s because I've seen old transistor radios with them) so there you go! [Most Walkman models](http://www.walkmancentral.com/list/walkman) [I looked at](http://www.sonyvintage.com/?page_id=1253) were sold with those over-ear headphones with the foam covers though (some looked like they were sold with in-ear ones by 1983/4 but I wasn't 100% sure...) which is what I'm picturing here.
> 
> Anyway, [the more you know.gif]!


End file.
